


From the Mouths of Babes

by redcherrychocolate



Category: Blood+
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Post-Series, like you wouldn't believe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-11
Updated: 2011-04-11
Packaged: 2017-10-28 12:02:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcherrychocolate/pseuds/redcherrychocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Haruko says you have wings, uncle Haji. Do you?" Post-series, shameless fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From the Mouths of Babes

Haji was not used to dealing with children.

Granted, he'd grown somewhat accustomed to being around them—Javier had long ago conditioned him into being a living doll at a moment's notice, and playing his instrument in the nooks of Okinawa often attracted an overactive toddler or two. He didn't mind them, really, as they were no more bothersome than many adults he'd come into contact with over the years (in fact, many were less so). Still, none had stayed in his presence for long, which was just as well. By now, he was no longer truly used to them. It had been many years since a child had taken an active role in his life.

Which made his current circumstances somewhat disconcerting.

How she had managed to sneak up on him would forever remain a mystery. As a chevalier, not to mention a man trained to fight over the course of several decades, he was meant to be attune to these things. His playing, he supposed, could have been to blame—it was so easy to lose oneself in the music. Several years without fighting could have dulled his senses, as well. However, regardless of the reason, as he finished up his song and briefly lowered his bow, something unexpected happened: something lightly, pointedly pressed against the small of his back.

Curiosity overwhelming, he looked over his shoulder, right into a pair of narrowed, determined, red-brown eyes.

"Haruko says you have wings, uncle Haji," Rika informed him, voice as demanding as her eyes. She promptly patted his back again, standing on tiptoe to reach higher. "Do you?"

"Rika," he said, turning somewhat to get a better look at her, "does your father know you're here?"

"You gonna tell on me?" she asked, the challenge in her voice quite startling. Quickly, she adjusted to his movement, rushing until she was once again behind him and splaying small hands on his back. "So do you? Huh? Haruko says she saw them, but I don't believe her."

"No, Rika, I do not," he answered. Awkwardly reaching out to her, he tried to guide the girl forward, to where he could see her. She promptly dodged him and continued her inspection of his person. "You should go back inside. Your father is probably worried."

For all the reaction he got, it was possible she hadn't heard him at all. She carried on with her search, plucking at his jacket with unwavering determination. Haji, in turn, couldn't help but think that, despite her claim, her persistence did suggest distinct belief. Belief that would not let her rest without some kind of result.

Resignedly turning from the girl (though he was becoming more and more used to the idea, the term 'niece' still felt odd upon both his mind and tongue), he once again set his bow upon the cello's strings, closed his eyes and, in what most would deem an afterthought, adjusted ever so slightly.

It was with that movement that Rika suddenly jumped back, letting out a rather impressive, unrestrained gasp. With a substantial amount of caution, she touched his jacket again, hand brushing one of the newly formed shapes there. A small, inconsequential twitch of muscle had her leaping back again, and when he delayed the start of his song to glance back at her, the utter amazement on her young face was surprisingly amusing.

And then she was gone, tearing back toward the Omoro, her jumbled shrieks of wonderment lost amongst the befuddled crowd. Haji, meanwhile, found the corners of his lips turning up, just the slightest bit.

Soon enough, he thought, he would grow accustomed to them.


End file.
